


Playing With Fire

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: (kinda), Accidents, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, Secret Relationship, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: How long can two spies keep a relationship secret, especially when missions and heroic acts make it even harder to do so?





	1. Chapter 1

It was six minutes to midnight by the time the long-awaited knock sounded at Ilsa’s hotel room door. 

For once, she had splurged on a stay at one of the city’s upper-class hotels, so her bare feet sunk into plush and luxurious carpet, as she hurried to open the door. Reminding herself to have a peek through the peephole, despite knowing in her very bone marrow who would be on the other side, she nonetheless heaved a relieved sigh as the much beloved and familiar face became visible through the small hole. 

Unlocking the door and swinging it open, she breathed a happy “Hi” and couldn’t stop her lips from stretching into a smile. 

“Hi,” Ethan greeted back, the smile on his own lips very much mirroring her own. He stepped over the threshold and gathered her into his arms, allowing the door to fall shut behind him. His face burrowed into her neck and he breathed her in, his whole body relaxing at once. 

Ilsa returned his hug and sighed happily against his shoulder. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled and turned his face slightly to allow his lips to trail along the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Mhh,” she hummed and her hands dropped to his hips in order to pull his shirt out of his waistband. “Missed you, too.” Tugging more urgently, the last of the cloth broke free from the restriction of the belt, and Ilsa wasted no time to seek out his warm skin with her fingertips. 

Ethan sighed and pressed her gently backwards, against the closest wall, his lips dislodging from her throat and instead seeking out her mouth. Ilsa’s hand slid upward, along the little ridges of his spine, to come to rest against his shoulder blades. 

“How much time do we have?” She managed in between kisses and Ethan broke away from her mouth for a second to cast a quick glance at his watch. 

“Six hours and forty-two minutes before I gotta go and catch my next plane.”

As if to make a point of the limited time they had available, his left leg snuck in between hers and pressed against her intimately. Ilsa moaned and her head fell back against the wall with a soft thud. 

“Bed,” she gasped. “Now.”

Ethan was quick to react, as usual. Hoisting her up into his arms in one swift move, he carried her further into the suit and over towards the bed, bridal style. “Thought you’d never ask,” he joked and carefully lowered her onto the mattress, leaning over her to press a loving kiss against her lips. 

He then stood back and simply gazed at her, the urgency of a few short moments ago seemingly forgotten. 

Ilsa could almost feel his gaze drifting along her skin - over her face, down her throat, along her shoulders, where her nightgown had slipped a little to reveal her collarbones and strong shoulders, peppered with freckles. She had often thought, in moments like this, that if he had the time, he would spend it happily counting each single freckle on her body. The thought warmed her insides rather pleasantly. 

His gaze drifted further down, along her breasts, over her stomach, her hips and down her legs. 

“Are you done committing me to memory, baby?” She teased, a smirk forming on her lips. 

Ethan shrugged and smirked back. “You won’t allow me to paint you, so what else do you want me to do?” His right hand reached out to let his fingers trail up her leg. “I’ll need something to remember you by, on those cold, lonely nights spent apart.”

She hummed. “Right now, though, you could also undress and come join me in this obscenely large and comfortable bed.”

“Well, if you insist.” His hands had already started pulling at his belt before he had even finished speaking. 

Ilsa laughed quietly and made herself comfortable against the pillows, watching his every move. 

“You’re not going to help get me out of these clothes?” He asked just as his fingers worked the zipper of his pants down. 

“You’re managing well enough on your own. And how am I supposed to not lean back and enjoy the show?”

“Oh, so you like to watch, is that it?” His pants dropped to the floor and his feet kicked them away hurriedly. 

Ilsa just smirked in answer, her eyes following the movement of his hands, as they reached up to begin work on the buttons of his shirt.

“I see,” he answered his own question, the shirt dropping to the floor beside his pants. 

The rest of his clothes followed in quick succession, and within moments, he was crawling into bed beside her, in all his glory. 

“Hi,” he said, capturing her lips in another quick kiss. 

“Hello,” she whispered back, her hands already sweeping over his naked back in gentle strokes, before pulling him closer until he came to rest atop of her. 

“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” he complained against her lips, his right hand busy pushing her nightgown up her leg so that he could reach her panties unhindered. 

“Then do something about it,” she challenged and reached out to pull his hand higher still. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

*

Exactly six hours and thirty minutes later, with the very first rays of sunlight only just beginning to peek over the horizon, Ethan and Ilsa were still tangled up in bed. They had gotten about two hours of precious sleep during the night, the rest of it had been spent with making up for lost time, whatever little they had of it. 

Now, after a night of lovemaking, they lay tangled together, her head resting on his shoulder, tucked in beneath his chin, her hand idly playing along the plane of his chest. His hand had found its home in the valley of her waist, his thumb drawing absentminded patterns onto her skin. 

The faint sound of a city rising from its slumber filtered through the windows, but the two of them were stubbornly trying to keep the real world away from the little bubble they had created for themselves for as long as possible. 

“Where are you off to next?” Ilsa whispered, hesitantly breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them.

“Amsterdam, but I doubt it’ll be the last leg of this mission. You know how it goes.”

Ilsa hummed in understanding. “I’d say tell the rest of the guys I said hi, but…”

“Yeah.”

They let the silence settle around them once more, until Ethan sighed deeply a few short minutes later, signaling that it was time for him to leave. 

For one short second, Ilsa hated what fate had made of them, hated their warring lives, the job they did, the governments they did it for, even hated themselves for not being strong enough to say  _ enough _ . Enough to what - their relationship, or their chosen professions - she wasn’t sure. 

Then she pushed that unwelcome feeling back, until all that remained was her feelings for Ethan. The warmth in her belly, whenever he was close, the accelerated beating of her heart when he touched her, the rush of happiness whenever he gave her that smile he had specially reserved for her. 

The sadness now settling over her as it was once again time to let each other go. 

“It’s time,” he murmured into her hair and Ilsa squeezed her eyes shut, as if that act alone could stop reality from happening. 

“I know,” she whispered. She forced her eyes open and then turned her head slightly to press her lips to the skin right above his heart, letting this act speak the words neither of them had dared to utter out loud yet.

Ethan hugged her close for a long moment, before reluctantly letting her go and sitting up. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “If I hurry,” he mused, “I’ll have two minutes to squeeze in a quick shower.”

Ilsa smiled and gave him a once-over, her left eyebrow raising slightly. “You should make the time.”

“That bad?” Ethan asked, wrinkling his nose.

“As bad as I am, I assume.”

“Not bad at all then,” he grinned and leaned down to press a quick kiss against her forehead, before getting out of bed and heading into the bathroom. 

Ilsa laughed and called after him, “You charmer!”

“You know it!” She heard, just before the bathroom door fell shut behind him. 

Ilsa sighed and closed her eyes, pulling his pillow closer and burrowing her nose in it, just to cling onto the feeling of him being there with her, steeling herself for the moment when he walked out of that hotel room and she would be left behind, wondering when she would see him again. 

If she would see him again. 

In this line of work, nothing was ever certain, least of all this. 

So far, they had managed to make this secret thing between them work for the past seven months. Whenever they could, they would send out a signal to the other, letting them know where they were, and for how long. Whenever they could manage, they would meet up in various locations all over the world, if only to spend a few handful of hours together. 

They had decided early on to keep their relationship a secret. Ethan, not wanting to give anyone, not even his own agency, ammunition against him, and Ilsa, working as a freelance agent, not having the protection of a team and a government behind her. 

Exactly one minute and fifty-six seconds later - Ilsa had counted - the door to the bathroom opened again, and Ethan stepped out, freshly showered. His hair was still wet and a few rogue drops of water dripped from his hair and slid down his face, his jawline, and onto his chest, and Ilsa wished nothing more than to have the time to lick each and every single drop off his skin.

Ethan seemed to read her thoughts, which she was sure wasn’t very hard to do. “Don’t,” he warned, pointing a finger at her. “Don’t get any ideas. We don’t have time.”

Ilsa groaned. “I know. This is the worst torture I’ve ever endured!”

Ethan chuckled. “You can be so dramatic.” He dared to step closer to the bed, picking up his clothing as he went. “I love it,” he said, and once again leaned down to press a quick kiss against her lips. 

Ilsa was almost embarrassed by the whine that left her throat as he pulled back, but only almost. Right now, she couldn’t care less about how needy she sounded. She had no idea when -  _ if _ \- she would see him again. 

She thought she was allowed to be at least a tiny bit needy. 

Now almost completely redressed, he finished closing his belt and went to redo the last couple of buttons on his shirt. 

“Allow me,” Ilsa murmured and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed, before standing up fully, batting his hands away from his shirt gently. 

Instead, they came to rest on her hips and Ilsa bit her lip as her skin tingled in answer to his touch. She focused on carefully closing his buttons, her hands lingering on his chest when she was done. She didn’t dare meet his eyes, too afraid of what she would see in them. 

“Hey,” he whispered, one of his hands leaving her hip to gently hook under her chin. “Look at me, Ilsa.”

Ilsa licked her lips, swallowed hard, and then did as he asked.

The love she saw shining in his eyes almost floored her. 

“I will see you soon,” he said, and Ilsa almost dared to believe him. He had never lied to her, after all. She nodded, not trusting her voice. 

They lived dangerous lives, yet he always managed to make her feel like they could defeat the odds. 

“I will see you soon,” she repeated. 

His eyes scanned her face one last time, taking her in, before he captured her lips in one last lingering kiss that left her toes tingling.    
When she opened her eyes next, the door fell shut with a quiet  _ click _ and he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan drops out of contact and Ilsa worries.

October 3rd

_ Amsterdam is beautiful. Thinking of you. ~E _

October 3rd

**Maybe someday we can enjoy it together. Missing you. ~ I**

October 4th

**London is as bleak and as rainy as usual. Perfect weather to stay in bed. ~ I**

October 5th

**This guy just almost ran me off my bike. His driving made me think of you ;) ~ I**

October 6th

**Alluding to naked cuddles ** ** _and _ ** **your crazy driving and yet no response? Beginning to worry over here. ~ I**

October 7th

**Not to be that woman that can’t take a hint, but please just let me know if you’re still alive, so that I can look for other handsome Americans to spend my time with. ~ I**

October 8th

**Ethan, please. ~ I**

Ilsa sat on her current hotel room’s window sill and looked out at the dreary London cityscape, raindrops on the glass obscuring her view. 

Her phone was clutched in her hand and over the last few days, she had fallen into the habit of biting her lip. 

Six days. 

Six days and no word from him.

It wasn’t unusual for them to go without contact for a couple of days at a time, but they made it a point to send up a signal to let the other know they were all right, as soon as they could. 

Six days was the longest they had ever been radio silent, and Ilsa was worried. 

Last night, she had even contemplated getting on a plane to Amsterdam and trying to hunt him down from there, but she couldn’t even be sure if he was still there. Or on the continent at all.

She looked down at her phone and thought about her next step. 

They never did this. They never called each other, but at this point, Ilsa didn’t care anymore. 

She took a deep breath and hit dial. 

It rang eight times before the line went dead. 

Ilsa kept trying. 

And trying. 

On the fifth attempt, someone picked up on the second ring. 

Ilsa stopped breathing for a moment. 

“ _ Who is this?”  _ A voice that wasn’t Ethan’s, but was still familiar, asked. 

Ilsa’s eyebrows furrowed and she ventured a guess, “Luther, is that you?”

Silence reigned on the other end of the line for several long moments, until, “Ilsa?”

She breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn’t hang up on her. “Luther, what happened to Ethan?”

She really wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush and waste time with pleasantries. 

Wherever he was, Luther heaved a sigh and Ilsa tried very hard not to fear the worst. 

“ _ There was an accident. _ ”

Ilsa’s breath caught. “Is he…”

“ _ He’s alive.”  _ Luther hurried to assure her, yet Ilsa knew there was a _ but  _ coming. “ _ But he’s in bad shape. _ ” She heard him swallow heavily. “ _ We don’t know if…” _

Ilsa cleared her suddenly dry throat and tried to stop her hands from shaking. “Where is he?”

“ _ We’re in Brussels.” _

Ilsa was already up and moving. “Text me the details, I’m on my way.”

“ _ You got it.” _

The line went dead, but a few seconds later, her phone pinged with an incoming message. 

Fifteen minutes later, Ilsa was checked out of her hotel room and was headed to the airport. 

Several hours after that, she climbed into the first cab she could get a hold of and was headed towards the address Luther had texted her - the nearest hospital. 

Even though her heart was hammering wildly in her chest and the palms of her hands were damp with sweat, outwardly she was composed and calm, as usual. 

Paying the cabbie and leaving a generous tip, she grabbed her light luggage and made her way through the hospital entrance. Quickly surveying the building’s directory by the doors, she made out the section Ethan’s room was located in and headed in that direction. 

Six minutes later, she came to a halt several feet from his closed door. Taking a few deep breaths, trying to steel herself for whatever sight lay behind those doors, she straightened her spine and marched onward. 

Two knocks on the door to alert his teammates of her arrival, and she was pushing the door open, her eyes immediately seeking out his form in the middle of the room.

He was too still. Too quiet. That was her first thought. So very unlike his usually energetic persona. 

Her second thought focused on how many machines were surrounding him. How many bandages covered his body. 

Ilsa blinked to clear her vision and tore her gaze away from him in order to seek out Luther’s form. 

“What happened?” She asked once she had found his form perched on a small chair opposite Ethan’s bed. She vaguely took note of Benji and Brandt, both of whom were camped out by the window. 

Before Luther could even open his mouth, however, Brandt stepped away from the window and interrupted, “Now hang on a minute. What are you even doing here? Or rather,  _ why are you here _ ?”

“Brandt-“ Luther tried, but once again, Brandt wasn’t listening.

“You can’t just show up here, expecting answers. You have no right.”

Ilsa clenched her teeth, not in the mood to waste time dealing with him. “I have no right? Really? And why would you think that, agent Brandt?”

He advanced on her, hands on his hips, but Ilsa never flinched. Instead, her eyebrow lifted, curious. 

“Well, for starters, this team has come across you a total of two times, and every time you’ve been a pain in the ass. To be honest, I trust you about as far as I can throw you.”

“Hmm.”

“ _ Hmm _ ? That’s all you’re going to say about it?”

“Yes, because I don’t have to prove or justify myself to you, agent Brandt. And if it’s a fight you’re looking for, you won’t find it with me. Not today.”

“That’s just-“

“Brandt, stop.”

Benji stepped forward, passed his teammate, and stopped by Ilsa’s side. “I owe her my life. Twice over, to be exact. You weren’t with us, the last time we met her, and I  _ do _ trust her.  _ With my life _ . And so does Ethan. That should be good enough for you, so stop being an arsehole and be glad that she cares enough about Ethan to even bother being here in the first place.”

Brandt sputtered. “Yeah, but Ethan’s not thinking clearly when it comes to her, we all know that! She had him wrapped around her little finger two seconds after they met. And just because she’s saved your life doesn’t mean I suddenly have to trust her. She always has an ulterior motive.” At this point, he sounded like a petulant child and Ilsa had to try hard not to laugh. 

“Did I mention you’re currently acting like an arsehole?” Benji idly wondered and Ilsa couldn’t help but chuckle. 

At this, Benji grinned and turned to her, carefully pulling her into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Ilsa.”

Ilsa was surprised by his hug, but returned it warmly nonetheless. “It’s good to see you too, Benji.”

Luther used this chance to also push past Brandt and envelope Ilsa into a hug as well. “Good to see you, kiddo. Although I wish it was under better circumstances.”

Ilsa nodded and gave him a somber look. “So let me ask again. What happened?”

Luther motioned for her to take a seat and promptly began filling her in on the happenings that had led them here.

~tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I swore to myself i'd never again do multi-chapter fics, but here we are. 
> 
> One more chapter after this :)
> 
> Please let me know what you think? I kinda live for reviews ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ilsa finally finds out what happened to Ethan.

Many long hours later, the team had all found themselves in different spots around the small room, dozing, reading a book from the small hospital shop, or, in Ilsa’s case, simply staring at Ethan’s still form, willing him to wake up. 

Brandt had seemed to grudgingly accept her presence, even if she could still feel his suspicious eyes on her from time to time. 

Ilsa sighed quietly, and closed her exhausted eyes, just for a minute. She thought about what Luther had told her hours earlier - how the team had been tasked with finding a known terrorist, how they had tracked him from Amsterdam, through France, and finally found him here, in Brussels. How the terrorist had started a fire, in order to get away. A fire that had quickly grown in size, enveloping a building. A building still housing two scared children. 

How Ethan hadn’t hesitated and had run into the fire, hoping to save those kids. 

He had managed to get them out alive, with barely a scratch on them, but had gotten badly hurt himself, in the process. 

The terrorist had gotten away, for now, but at least Ethan and those children were still alive. 

Ilsa didn’t know whether to be mad at his recklessness, or in awe of his bravery. But then again, weren’t those the exact qualities that made her fall in l-

A quiet groan from the bed made her sit up straight and hold her breath. 

The others perked up as well and were on their feet, until all of them were gathering around Ethan’s bed. 

“Ethan?” Benji asked. “Hey, can you hear me?”

They waited, but there was no further reaction.

“We all heard that, right? We’re not hallucinating?” Brandt wondered. 

“Yes, we all heard it. Give him some time.” Luther grumbled. 

“Maybe if you’d all stop crowding him and would give him some space, he’d feel more inclined to wake up,” Ilsa suggested, leaning back against the wall, looking totally unbothered, even if she wanted nothing more than to push all of them aside and hold onto Ethan’s hand. 

“Oh right, because you know him so well,” Brandt stated, the sarcasm rolling off his tone in waves. 

Ilsa rolled her eyes.

“Stop antagonizing her, Brandt! Geez, what’s the matter with you?” Benji sighed, exasperated. 

“Like I said, I don’t trus-“

“ _ -sa… _ ”

Everybody once again stopped breathing, as Ethan groaned again.

“What was that?”

“What did he say?”

“Be quiet!”

Another groan, then his eyes sleepily fluttered open. 

“Hey, Ethan! Welcome back! It’s Benji!”

“And Brandt.”

“And Luther.”

“ _ Ilsa _ ?” Ethan asked, barely above a whisper, his words hard to make out above the beeping of the machines. 

“What?” 

“Did I hear Ilsa?” He rasped again, but this time his words were clear to make out, even though they were heavily slurred, the drugs still hard at work. 

“Uhm…” Brandt started, but then Ilsa squeezed passed him and finally took a gentle hold of Ethan’s hand, a relieved and loving smile on her face. 

“You did,” she murmured. “Hey, baby.” Her free hand reached up to gently brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “Welcome back.”

“Hey,” he murmured back, eyes still sleepy and unfocused, but crinkled at the corners with a smile. “Missed you.”

Ilsa swallowed hard to get her words past the sudden, giant lump in her throat. “I missed you, too.”

She then reached over to the nightstand in order to pour him some fresh water, before holding the cup and straw to his lips. 

“Sorry for worrying you,” he managed a little more smoothly after whetting his throat with a few sips. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright. You had a good reason, after all.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed in thought, trying to remember what had happened, before he tried to sit up, suddenly alarmed. “The kids okay?”

“Shh,” Ilsa soothed, gently pressing him back down against the mattress. “They’re fine. You saved them.”

Ethan sighed, relieved. “Okay.”

“Uhm, excuse us?” Benji awkwardly interrupted and cleared his throat. “But, uh, what’s going on?”

“Yeah, that’s what I would like to know.” Brandt added, and then gave a chuckling Luther a questioning look. “Care to fill us in?”

Luther shrugged and smirked. “It’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?” He asked, rhetorically, motioning at Ilsa and Ethan, who seemed lost in their own little world. “They’re in love.”

Brandt sputtered again, while Benji just stared at them for a moment, before he simply shrugged. “Huh,” he said. “Yeah, all right.”

“You do know we can hear you, right?” Ilsa mused, not taking her eyes off Ethan, who smirked at her, as best he could, his eyes speaking volumes. 

_ Better get used to it,  _ they seemed to say.

_ I can do that,  _ she smirked back. 

He weakly tugged her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, eyes never leaving hers.  _ Good.  _

“You could’ve just told us, you know.” Brandt groused, arms crossed on his chest, looking fairly unhappy for someone whose friend just woke up in a hospital bed and seemed to be on the mend. 

Ethan managed a shrug. “Wanted to keep it quiet, at least for a while.” He shared a look with Ilsa. “Still want to keep it quiet from certain entities.”

His eyes narrowed as he took in Brandt’s body language. “And you better get over whatever this is,” he said, the warning clear. 

Brandt’s eyes shifted to the side, embarrassed at having been caught out. “Fine.”

Ethan’s brow rose, obviously expecting more, but staying quiet. 

Brandt sighed and turned to Ilsa. “I’m sorry for being a douche. I’ll try my best to get over this mistrust. Maybe just give me a little bit more time, please?”

Ilsa pondered his words for a long moment, before nodding shortly. “I can do that.” 

Brandt opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Ilsa gave him a look that left the words stuck in his mouth. “But you better never talk to me like that again.” 

The unspoken threat added to that sentence was clearly understood. Brandt nodded. “I won’t.”

“Great!” Benji explained, wanting to break the tension in the room. “Then we can all concentrate on getting Ethan out of here as soon as possible!”

So that’s what they did. 

*

Four weeks later, the weather was unusually warm for early November, and Ethan and Ilsa found themselves on a secluded park bench somewhere in Maine, surrounded by trees in warm, fiery colors, and countless colorful leaves scattered on the ground. 

The sun was beginning it’s descent in the sky, but its rays were still warming their bodies, all the way down to their very bones. 

Ethan had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and her head was resting in the crook of his neck, a content smile on both of their faces. 

“Thanks for dragging me out here. I feel like I haven’t seen the sun in years.”

Ilsa huffed a laugh, her breath ghosting across his neck, before drily stating, “That’s because all you‘ve been doing for the past month is physical therapy, with no mind at all to your surroundings. I am astounded that your body didn’t go into shock, with all the fresh air today.“

Ethan tickled her side in retaliation and Ilsa squirmed slightly, before settling back against him. “I know, I know. I just wanna get back out there as soon as possible. Apparently the others are very unhappy with my replacement.”

Ilsa laughed. “You don’t have to tell me. Benji’s been spamming me with complaints for the past three and a half weeks. I’m surprised my phone hasn’t exploded yet.”

Ethan chuckled, before turning his head and pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m glad you guys get along so well.”

“He’s a good guy. They all are.”

Ethan nodded. “I’m certainly glad Brandt got over his issues.”

She hummed. “He’s certainly been trying to make up for his previous behavior. It’s about time I’ll let him off the hook, but it’s quite a lot of fun to see him squirm. Maybe I’ll give it a couple more weeks.”

Ethan laughed, happy and carefree. “Have I mentioned that I do love your devious streak?”

“You have now.”

“I also love  _ you _ ,” he murmured, and a warmth of a different kind suddenly filled her body. 

Sitting up, she locked her eyes with his, before replying, “I love you, too.”

Their lips met in a kiss that was even more fiery than the leaves scattered around them.

~fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and leaving comments! You don’t know how much I appreciate the continued support!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little story (which was originally supposed to be a one-shot...).
> 
> <3


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